A blog cursed with Dark Shadows and other obsessions

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Monthly Archives: April 2018

As a quick footnote to my last post, I have recently been pondering at what point I should become concerned and/or seek medical attention (NOT from Dr. Julia Hoffman, of course) when I find myself resonating with sentiments expressed by David Collins? (He only tried to kill his father…twice? Has been possessed a handful of times, made friends with ghosts, been accused of being an insane liar…totally respectable!)

(That point has passed. You went past go, Brittany, but you did not collect $200. )

Moving on…

I was recently “tagged” on social media to post about ten albums that have had an impact on me. This task was particular difficult for me because it’s easier for me to think of individual bands and musicians who had an impact on me, as I have this obsessive personality that requires me to listen to everything they ever recorded and consequently makes it hard to narrow down which album has had the most impact. But hey, let’s give it a whirl…

10. Graham Nash, Songs for Beginners (1971)

I am a simple manAnd I play a simple tuneWish that I could see you once againAcross the roomLike the first time

I’ve said it before, and I guess I’ll say it again: Graham Nash is undoubtedly my favorite member of CSN. Compare Nash’s first solo effort to those of the other members (which aren’t too shabby, don’t get me wrong–I love CSN), and you’ll hear why. The album is full of raw, emotional songs about Nash’s breakup with Joni Mitchell and fervent cries for political activism, but each song is so carefully crafted to pop/singer-songwriter perfection. I listened to this album a lot as a teenager–no regrets.

9. Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here (1975)

Remember when you were young? You shone like the sunShine on you crazy diamond Now there’s a look in your eyesLike black holes in the sky Shine on you crazy diamond

As a teenager, I had a vague notion of Pink Floyd but didn’t really become interested (translation: obsessed! I can’t have interests like normal people, remember?) in the band until I discovered Syd Barrett and his music. “I’ve got a bike/You can ride it if you like/It’s got a basket, a bell that rings and/Things to make it look good/I’d give it to you if I could, but I borrowed it.” Ughh, love that stuff. Everything about that era of the band is so unique–the sounds, the lyrics, even the delivery of the lyrics…nothing like it in the world, methinks. Ice creeeeeam, tastes good in the afternoon! Ice creeeeeam, tastes good if you eat it soon!

But the fact of the matter is that the band endured and made more music without Syd Barrett than they did with him. The band could not have happened without Syd Barrett, but it also could not have lasted with him at the helm. Still, the band found ways to acknowledge his importance and pay tribute to him in some of their most famous works, Wish You Were Here included. (Even though Roger Waters has stated, in his usual stubborn way, that only one song off the album is really about Syd, but I find his influence permeates so much of the album, albeit if not always so forthrightly as “Shine on You Crazy Diamond.”) During the recording of the album, a shaven, overweight Syd Barrett visited the studio, shocking his former bandmates and reducing them to tears. The emotional weight this album carries is palpable in its lyrics and music.

How I wish, how I wish you were hereWe’re just two lost soulsSwimming in a fish bowlYear after yearRunning over the same old groundAnd how we foundThe same old fearsWish you were here

When I bought the album on CD (that used to be a thing, you know), I specifically ordered a version that also included the early Pink Floyd singles–“Arnold Layne,” “See Emily Play,” “Candy and a Currant Bun,” “Apples and Oranges”–as bonus tracks, making it the perfect CD for me, as it melded my favorite non-Syd Barrett Floyd album with some of my most favorite Syd Barrett songs.

8. Pulp, Different Class (1995)

You will never understandHow it feels to live your lifeWith no meaning or controlAnd with nowhere left to go.

(Now I’m wondering why I didn’t re-create this album cover at my wedding? Uhh, because those are some ugly flowers, that’s why, the second voice in my head says.)

Oh, Jarvis.

What can I say? I spent a good portion of my life obsessed with and worshipping that guy. And for good reason.

Pulp spent a long time (what, fifteen years or something) in the music business without much to show for it. (And that would be because some of the early Pulp music is really, really not very good. Just trust me on this one.) With Different Class, Pulp’s recognition and success reached a whole new level. They had top ten hits, nationwide fame, and Jarvis Cocker–the guy who once fell out of a window trying to impress a girl with his Spider-man impression and spent months in a wheelchair as a consequence–was suddenly a sex symbol at 32.

Different Class is full of some of his best songwriting, dealing with themes of sex (Jarv’s fave), the class system, drugs…yet all set to a flagrantly POP beat. There’s the scathing, vengeful “I Spy” (in which Jarvis advises that you should take him “seriously, very seriously indeed ‘cos I’ve been sleeping with your wife for the past sixteen weeks”), anthemic call to arms for all the mis-shapes, mistakes, misfits, the depressing come-down at “Bar Italia” “where other broken people go”, the infectious sing-a-long “Disco 2000” about the one that got away, and the ultimate ATTACK on the clash of the social classes “Common People” (really a shame how the video/single omits the final, most biting verse). And then there’s “F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E.”, “Live Bed Show,” “Underwear,” “Monday Morning,” “Pencil Skirt”….

It’s impossible to choose a best or even favorite track. This is the album that catapulted a mild interest in Jarvis Cocker to a full-blown obsession, kicking the door open for all the rest of “Britpop.” It would be years before any other musical genres would be allowed to enter the fortress.

If you’re surprised that there’s a Christmas album on this list, then you CLEARLY haven’t listened to this Christmas album. I listen to this album year-round. A song from this album made its way to my wedding reception playlist. It’s Sinatra. It’s perfect.

I first got into Sinatra after being assigned to read Gay Talese’s magnificent profile of Sinatra, “Frank Sinatra Has a Cold” during my next-to-final quarter of college (the first time around), and I thought, “Wow, he has to be the coolest guy, ever.” And guess what? He is. I just don’t wanna live in a world where there is no Frank Sinatra. In the words of Dean Martin, “This is Frank’s world, and we’re just living it.” Amen, brother.

6. The Smiths, Hatful of Hollow (1984)

I am the son, and the heir, of a shyness that is criminally vulgarI am the son and heir, of nothing in particular

It was difficult to choose one Smiths album; truthfully, any of their albums could be inserted here. But I may or may not still be wearing an oversized, pit-stained Smiths t-shirt, an heirloom passed down from an older sister, with this album cover on it, so I’d say its impact is pretty obvious.

Morrissey has a lyric for every situation in my life:

Struggling with the state of yourself and your life? “Every day you must say, how do I feel about my shoes?”

Feel like your work is not meaningful or productive? “But sometimes I feel more fulfilled making Christmas cards with the mentally ill.”

When someone finally asks your honest opinion of them? “Frankly, Mr. Shankly, since you ask: you are a flatulent pain in the arse!”

Have to deal with the consequences of telling someone your honest opinion of them? “Sweetness, sweetness, I was only joking when I said I’d like to smash every tooth in your head.”

Feeling under the weather and someone asks you how you’re feeling? “Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head.”

Just something I may or may not say every day: “Oh, I’m too tired/I’m so sick and tired/And I’m feeling very sick and ill today.” (I am a “delicate flower”!!!!)

Moving onto a new obsession and your previous obsession starts to feel left out? “I still love you, oh, I still love you/Only slightly, only slightly less than I used to, my love.”

PMSing and carrying around some extra “water” weight? “You’re the one for me, fatty/ You’re the one I really, really love/And I will stay/Promise you’ll say/If I’m ever in your way/A-hey!”

And ad infinitum.

I mean, these lyrics just roll off the tongue. So good.

(I recently saw a headline about a study that concluded that “Smiths fans were neurotic.” Was such a study necessary? I mean, really????????)

If you want to have a fun game of charades sometime, try using Morrissey lyrics. “Punctured bicycle, on a hillside, desolate.” Ahhh, fun times.

5. Oasis, Definitely Maybe (1994)

You’re the outcast, you’re the underclassBut you don’t care, because you’re living fast

You’re the uninvited guest who stays ’till the endI know you’ve got a problem that the devil sendsYou think they’re talking ’bout you but you don’t know whoI’ll be scraping your life from the sole of my shoe tonight

As a young child, my brother and I would go upstairs to my older sister’s lair and deface the posters of her musical heroes with sticky-tack: Morrissey’s nipple magically grew one very long hair and the Gallagher brothers’ noses always had dangling boogers. I had a strong aversion to the Gallaghers in particular because I knew one of them (who also thought he was John Lennon) had called George Harrison a “nipple” (“NIP-PLE”) and I got tricked into watching one of their concerts instead of getting to watch A Hard Day’s Night for the nth time because I was told John Lennon was in it. (He was–in photographic form at the conclusion of “Live Forever.”) So it was a long time before I sold my soul to this rock ‘n’ roll band.

But oh boy, when I did, there weren’t no turnin’ back. Noel Gallagher’s latest solo effort asks, “Who built the moon?” Uhhhh, you? Would follow that dude to the moon and back, no questions asked.

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond skyWith one hand waving freeSilhouetted by the seaCircled by the circus sandsWith all memory and fateDriven deep beneath the wavesLet me forget about today until tomorrow

I cycled through many musical obsessions as a teenager, but I think perhaps my obsession with Bob Dylan lasted the longest and had the greatest impact, which is odd considering I probably listen him to the least out of any artist that appears on this list. I devoured all his albums, watched Dont Look Back more than was healthy, and wore sunglasses a lot. Yeah, not healthy behavior, but having a thorough knowledge of Dylan’s catalogue is something I consider worthy of being mentioned on my resume. Once, I had to explain to a dense individual how important Bob Dylan was to music. Like, they legitimately didn’t get it. It was sad. Don’t be that person.

Bringing It All Back Home is my favorite Dylan album, as it blends both acoustic and electric Dylan and contains some of my favorite Dylan tracks (which I did NOT play at my wedding reception!)–and Rick Nelson’s, too. I know, I have great taste.

3. The Jam, The Gift (1982)

Why are you frightened can’t you see that it’s youThat ain’t no ghost it’s a reflection of youWhy do you turn away an’ keep it out of sightOh don’t live up to your given rolesThere’s more inside you that you won’t show

Paul Weller is the man who knocked down the walls built by Jarvis Cocker.

My first exposure to The Jam was the video for “Going Underground.” I thought, “Good song, lead singer is a bit odd-looking.”

Ha. Ha. Ha.

I feel like with each of my obsessions, it just got worse. Like, I spent A LOT of time obsessing about Paul Weller. Way more time than I spent obsessing about Jarvis Cocker, even. The only reason I don’t spend so much time doing it anymore is because…well, I found more fulfillment in my work and life, I guess. And I also sought medical attention. Only kidding, ha. Maybe I should have.

Anyway.

The Gift may not be my favorite Jam album (but it includes my favorite Jam song, bar none), yet it is their most musically diverse and adventurous. And it has so, so, so many good songs.

And it’s their last. Weller, at age 24, announced the dissolution of the band at the height of their fame. Guts, man.

Bring on The Style Council!

(Never forget the time I threatened to turn this blog into an analysis/discussion of Style Council videos.)

2. The Beach Boys, Pet Sounds (1966)

Sometimes I feel very sadSometimes I feel very sad(Can’t find nothin’ I can put my heart and soul into)

I don’t even know what to say about this album. I love it so much. It is absolute perfection from start to finish. It’s a spiritual kind of thing, don’t you think? Yes, yes, it is. Yet there are still people who don’t “get” this album. Don’t be that person. Make the world a better place. Listen to Pet Sounds, preferably at least once a day. You just have to listen…listen.

1. The Beatles, Rubber Soul (1965)

Was she told when she was youngThat pain would lead to pleasure?Did she understand it when they saidThat a man must break his backTo earn his day of leisure?Will she still believe it when he’s dead?

Any Beatles album could hold the top spot on this list. As many musical obsessions have come and gone, The Beatles were the first and remain the most intense and innate part of my existence. The Beatles are the sound of my beating heart.

It’s odd (to me, anyway) to think of how this is the album that so influenced Brian Wilson to write Pet Sounds, yet he and I listened primarily to different versions. Brian was listening to the Capitol version, with a different track listing (including the false-start version of “I’m Looking Through You”), and I have always listened to the original UK version. (Capitol may have been onto something, actually: omitting “What Goes On” is downright inspired and inserting the folksy “I’ve Just Seen A Face” and “It’s Only Love” blend in well with the musical landscape of the album.) Yet we both have the same intense love affair with the album. Revolver may have opened the doors for Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, and Sgt. Pepper is certainly more advanced technology-wise, but neither has the heart of Rubber Soul. In fact, as much as I love each of their albums, I might go as far to argue that no other Beatles album has the heart that Rubber Soul does. The empathetic drumming Ringo lends to John in “In My Life”? Just…my heart.

I’ll stop now. I find it hard to express my feelings about this band of brothers for, like Cordelia, my love’s more richer than my tongue…

I know everyone stays up REALLY late at Collinwood, but it’s way past my bedtime…

P.S.

Because no one has found out that he’s a vampire from another century.

My Dark Shadows binge-watching has been aided by the invent of streaming. Sure, I have the entire series on DVD, but there’s an added luxurious laziness to streaming. No need to get up and change the disc after 10 episodes! (I’m over burning calories, anyway–hey, I’m married now!)

But streaming also became a necessity when I needed to watch portions of the show that were currently on loan to a family member in need. (The crazy blood runs deep and is genetic.) So, I signed up for a free 14-day trial of MPI’s Dark Shadows streaming service, darkshadows.tv. The best part about this streaming service? Besides, you know, not having to get up and change the disc after 10 episodes…

Subtitles.

Yep. Subtitles.

In fact, the subtitles are so awesome, I’m becoming even more outraged that this service wasn’t completed for the DVDs. I’m not hard of hearing (yet), but the subtitles bring so much to the show. Let’s take a look!

First, there’s the description of the music (among the best, ROBERT COBERT = LEGEND!).

50% of the show.

The other 50%.

Even in broad daylight, things are eerie at Collinwood.

Mrs. Johnson doesn’t get around to cleaning this part of Collinwood too often.

Things usually get tense when Barnabas has to deal with 20th century technology, i.e. use a telephone. He refuses to have such a modern convenience installed at The Old House, you know!

So Josette’s Music Box is just a music box, but Quentin’s “music box” is EERIE. Fine, be that way.

Then, there’s the descriptions of things that happen frequently around Collinsport:

Everyday occurrences, no lie.

Some things only happen when Barnabas and Julia are under duress, forced to help create a mate for one of the worst Dark Shadows characters of all-time, ADAM…

Slight detour here, but while watching Quentin “maniacally” laugh as he has driven everyone out of Collinwood, I noticed something in the hallway…

Have I lost my mind (98% chance) or is that the box that holds the hand of Count Petofi? Just lurking around in Collinwood, circa 1969? (By the way, check out this “Count Petofi style wood box” on eBay! The price has dropped dramatically!) Guess I’ll have to go back and watch even more episodes to find out. Oh, dirty darn…

Then, there’s just the ability to capture inspiring lines of dialogue:

Inspiring lols, that is.

EVER AGAIN. (CLENCHED EYELIDS.)

This line comes before one of the greatest moments (maybe THE greatest) in Dark Shadows history: Barnabas hits Willie over the head with a glass bottle in order to escape (the same way that Maggie escaped Barnabas when she was a prisoner in the Old House–remember when they used to build houses with secret passages and jail cells in the basement? Those were the days!!). This line reminds me of Chunk, speaking to Sloth, in The Goonies: “Sloth, you’re gonna live with me now. I’m gonna take care of ya…’cos I love ya.” Yeah, I’m a pretty balanced individual, really.

Pre-Wedding pep talk.

Yeah, come on, Angelique, Barnabas has fooled how many generations of Collins that he’s his own great-great-great grandson? They’re not that bright.

Oh my gosh, I can’t stop laughing. Adam + Charred Eve = OTP!

Well, staring at the portrait of your long-lost love (your wedding present to her that didn’t arrive until after you had married Angelique) who has been DEAD for nearly 200 years will do that to you…

Jason McGuire wishes you would have had that attitude when he came over for a visit a few episodes ago…

Of course. And everyone will come dressed as a member of the Collins family. Guess who Barnabas will be?

Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!

(Legend has it these were Jonathan Frid’s exact words to Dan Curtis when he requested to play a character other than Barnabas–GASP!–hence the birth of Bramwell Collins.)

And it won’t be an accident like the time I strangled my first crazy wife!

And, saving the best for last:

Ooooh, BURN!

(Quentin will do that to ya. He’s H-O-T.)

It may not have been high-budget television (had to allocate a good portion of the budget to all the candles for the Old House), but dang, if it isn’t just the most addictive and enjoyable television-watching experience of my life…

(Yet my husband claims you had to “grow up watching” this show to like it. “Is that guy Frankenstein?” he asks. “Why isn’t he a vampire anymore?” he wonders. “Why can he become a vampire again if Adam is still alive?” he muses. Sure sounds like someone’s trying to play catch up, if you ask me…)

Bonjour, mon vieux! Your beloved Countess has been–er–busy, debating about what to blog about next (more leftovers of songs I didn’t play at my wedding reception? Little teaser: no “Light My Fire”, “Will Never Marry”, or “Happiness is a Warm Gun”. Are you shocked? Very. NAME THAT MOVIE OR GET OFF MY BLOG!!), being obsessed with a little magical kitchen appliance called a FOOD PROCESSOR (I want to use it all day, every day forever and ever…I’m starting to have dreams about using it–and cutting my finger handling the blades, but that’s not important, I will suffer for my art if necessary!), and watching a lot of Dark Shadows. I mean, like a lot a lot. I’ve cycled through quite a few story arcs in the past few months (yeah, let’s say months, that sounds like a more balanced individual)–Parallel Time, Barnabas’ introduction, and–can I get a YA-OOOOOOO here?–Quentin Collins, womanizer (he can’t help it, really), Werewolf, and non-believer of Barnabas’s “I’m my own great-great-grandson” cover story.

I’m not really sure what prompted the re-awakening of this compulsive Dark Shadows watching, but I’m pretty sure it’s like cancer: it comes back worse. I mean, I have trouble leaving the house. (Just. One. More. Episode.) And I want to decorate my house like the Old House, sans electricity, indoor plumbing ‘n’ all. Yikes.

Anyway.

My husband married me knowing I loved this melodramatic “gothic soap opera” from the 1960s, a decade I probably should have been alive during. And I tried to reign him into my inner circle of obsession and madness, but the trouble was, he wasn’t gripped by the throat like Willie was. He said it was too slow. (THE NERVE!!) He refused to watch it unless he was trying to fall asleep.

Still, I married him, knowing he didn’t like Dark Shadows or The Brady Bunch (that’s really not normal, is it?) or The Monkees. Musta been love.

But then this thing happened…He started lurking when I was watching episodes. And he started asking questions. “Why is she [Maggie] still in this condition? Shouldn’t something else be happening to her by now?” “Is he a werewolf or does he just need a haircut?” “What happened to Count Petofi and the gypsy king?” And one of his questions has prompted this blog entry: “Why did you name your blog The Hand of Count Petofi? Is he your favorite character?”

Uhhhh, no! Barnabas and Quentin 4EVER. (Literally. You and I are gonna live foreverrrrrrr, we’re gonna live foreverrrrrrr...) So why not name this blog CousinBarnabas or WerewolfSideburns? Why The Hand of Count Petofi?

First of all, here’s a little mini bio of Count Andreas Petofi from none other than The Dark Shadows Wiki (because I don’t think I could say it any better):

Count Andreas Petofi is an extremely powerful warlock who first appeared in the 1897 storyline. He used the alias of Victor Fenn-Gibbon and presented Edward Collins with a forged letter of introduction from his friend, the Earl of Hampshire (793) to establish residence at Collinwood.

Petofi had very poor eyesight, which was odd because his powers were so great one would imagine he might have corrected his eyesight. He wore glasses with very thick purple frames to help correct his vision (786). He had certainly found a way to stop or slow his own aging (801) as he was at least 150 years old in 1897 according to Magda Rakosi. According to the Count, he had once possessed a pet unicorn, which he had killed on the full moon before curing himself of the curse of the werewolf. It was telling this story that told Quentin Collins he was a werewolf at one time, because most people would not have known that a werewolf does not recall what happened when they are in beast form (801).

The Count explained to Edward Collins that he could barely speak above a whisper as he had served with Lord Kitchener in the Sudan. It seems that the knife of a tribesman caught him just above the shoulder blade, and the tip pierced his throat. Petofi claimed he was almost given up for dead (793).

Somehow Petofi had placed a large reservoir of power into his right hand, which he then lost as payment to the gypsy woman who cured him of his lycanthropy. In the place of his hand he wore a wooden hand which generally held his cane. The gypsies kept the hand in a box where it did not decay, and retained considerable magical powers. The hand was stolen by Magda from King Johnny Romano (778), but she could not control it (786).

Count Petofi sent Aristede to recover the hand, but by the time he found Aristede unconcious on the docks, Angelique was in possession of the hand. Later that evening he recognized the box it was being kept in, being held by Angelique at Collinwood (793). He watched through the window as Angelique attempted to use it to take away Quentin’s disfigurement.

Among Petofi’s greatest enemies were the Gypsies (794). He concocted an elaborate scheme to escape their vengeance which involved switching bodies with Quentin Collins or (later) Barnabas Collins.

A struggle followed which resulted in a fire, burning the building and presumably destroying both Petofi and Garth Blackwood. This is assumed because Petofi’s glasses were found in the fire, something he could not get far without, and Blackwood was never heard from again (883).

Uh, seriously, why not name this blog The Hand of Count Petofi? A warlock with poor eyesight who wears thick purple frames and a former werewolf whose severed hand holds magical powers? And you only know he’s been destroyed because his glasses are among the remains of a fire? Life ambition right there.

Plus, when you Google Count Petofi, here’s a screenshot of the image results:

I think I’ll start using this as my profile photo on social media:

Angered_Petofi.JPG

I’m a little perplexed as to why this gem of Petofi cuddling under the beloved Afghan that saw so many Dark Shadows characters through so many crises is not among the top images:

Just tell me how to travel to the future already, Barnabas!!!!!

And if you go back to that Google Image Search, you’ll see one of the related search terms is “McCartney.” Whaaaaaat? What does the Cute Beatle have to do with a powerful 19th century warlock?

Nothing, really, just the fact that I’m obsessed with both and have blogged about them. Yep, many of the images that come from clicking on that “related search” come from this blog.

Which brings me back to the original question at hand: Why name this blog The Hand of Count Petofi?

No reason, really, except at the time I started up this blog I must have been in the throes of a Dark Shadows obsession and lovin’ on the 1897 storyline (one of the best). This blog could have just as easily been named RobinGibbsTeeth or FatBrandog or something equally mundane and meaningless. Oh, you bet I’m loopy all right…

Hey, check this out:

Yes, the video is entitled “Count Petofi Does the I-Ching & Chokes Himself.” Guaranteed to improve your quality of life. You’re welcome.

(Try to ignore the ever-annoying Dr. Julia Hoffman and her eye-fluttering and SIGHS — LIFE IS SO HARD AT COLLINWOOD!!! Oh my gosh why didn’t Barnabas choke her when he had the chance? Oh, yeah, SARAH! Ugh.)